Promise Her (18 page)

Even that would be better than the dejection written all over her.

They had to find the twin. He didn’t trust that HPD would put much effort into it.

Plus, they had to find a killer.

When they got to the house, he tried to help her out of the car, but she wouldn’t allow it. She walked into the house and straight to the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything?” Douglas asked.

“I just want a glass of water, then I want to lie down.” She looked at her watch. “Be ready to leave around six. I want to talk to some of the rodeo regulars before the show.”

“You need to eat or you won’t have the strength to go out at all.”

“See you at six, Douglas.”

He watched her walk down the hall. Her step none too steady. She was holding herself upright by sheer willpower.

What was he to do with her?

He had to protect her. But she wasn’t making the task an easy one.

When she turned into her room and shut the door, he’d never felt so alone in his life. Faces of various women friends he’d escorted around town filtered through his head. All were beautiful women, but not one of them reached into his heart and squeezed. Why was Lisa suddenly in his head all the time? Was it because he was taking care of her and felt responsible?

She was determined to leave in the morning. His gut curled as he realized he had very little time to talk her out of it. He had one shot to get this right or he risked losing her.

Whatever it took, he’d get her to stay.

Chapter Seventeen

It was an hour before show time when Lisa and Douglas arrived at Reliant Stadium. Lisa had insisted they get there early so she could meet with her friends and see what was going on.

Even though they were early, they had to weave their way through the throng. The aroma of sizzling barbecue permeated the air.

“Smells tempting.” Douglas said. It was too soon for her to be out and about, but he found he couldn’t deny her anything. How unusual was that? He was a criminal attorney, for goodness sakes. The art of evading, denying, and objecting was part of his nature. Lisa, however, had crept past his defenses and left him feeling vulnerable.

“I love barbecue sandwiches, but let's wait until later.”

She wore a skirt and loose Western blouse along with her boots and hat. She looked wonderful. But tired. TJ had joined him in trying to get her to stay in for a few more days. Both failed.

Though Mike and Owen called every day, she insisted on seeing them first.

“There they are,” she said, pointing toward a group of cowboys and cowgirls.

Douglas looked around for the one man he wanted to see, Harold Wheatley. He’d like to have a conversation with him, but doubted it would happen.

The stadium was filling up fast.

He looked up at the president’s skybox. According to what Lisa told him it was Wheatley’s favorite place to hang out. But Douglas couldn’t see a thing.

According to Mike, who kept in touch with Douglas daily, lies were still floating around the circuit about Lisa and Wheatley. Douglas wanted to know why Wheatley allowed them to continue.

Country music floated in the air, mingling with hundreds of conversations. The odor of animals and hay combined with the smell of food.

Eager for the show to begin, a big portion of those attending headed for their seats.

Mike and Owen broke from the group and came toward them, big grins on their faces.

“Hey, Cowgirl. Good to see you.”

They came up and gave her a careful hug.

“Good to be here. I miss you guys.”

“It’s not the same when you’re not here.” Owen grinned. “How do you feel? You took quite a tumble, you have to have bruises out the kazoo.”

Lisa chuckled. “You could say that. Every color of the rainbow, too.”

“You sure you’re up to this?” Mike asked.

“She’s not. But you can’t tell her anything,” Douglas said.

The cowboys shook hands with Douglas.

“What’s the word on the floor?” Lisa asked.

The cowboys exchanged glances.

“It’s okay. You can tell me.”

“Still not good,” Mike said grimly. “The cops seem determined to hang this on you. Now they’re saying you cut your cinch, took the fall on purpose so you would look less guilty of murder.”

“I know,” she said, her lips compressed in a tight line. “Do you guys have any idea who might be behind this? I didn’t think I had any enemies. Not on the rodeo circuit.” She paused. “Not anywhere.”

HPD was getting nowhere in their investigation. According to Darin, they had no one on their list of suspects except Lisa. They’d uncovered nothing that would point the finger elsewhere. Douglas wondered if they were even trying.

“We’ll find the guilty party, Lisa. Count on it,” Douglas promised.

But so far, all they’d found was the record of a twin no one seemed to know about and couldn’t find. There had to be someplace else to look.

“Douglas is right, Cowgirl. He’ll find who killed Tempest and who cut your cinch,” Mike said, looking at Douglas with a confidence Douglas wished he could match.

“Has Harold been around?” Douglas asked.

“Sure,” Owen answered. “He’s here every day.”

“Have you seen the blonde again? You know, the one who hangs around him?

“Sure have, Cowgirl. She’s here every day, too.” Mike looked over the crowd as if to see if she were anywhere close. “Keep your eyes open. She hasn’t missed a performance.”

“We will,” Lisa said. “Look. My cell is on. If you see her, give me a ring?”

“Sure.” Mike shrugged. “I’m on tonight, but if either of us sees her, we’ll holler.”

“If you feel up to it, let’s wander around,” Douglas suggested, taking her arm to lead her away.

She shrugged him off, walked through the throng and ignored him.

What was her problem? She’d been like this all day. Maybe she hurt more than she wanted him to know. The thought made him pause. “Do you need a Tylenol, Lisa?”

“Nope.”

“When you get tired, let me know. We’ll go back to the house.”

“I will. Let’s catch a few exhibits before the show, maybe we’ll see Harold.”

They wandered around the hall; saw a few displays. The vintage cars fascinated Douglas. Lisa was taken with a rack of hand-sewn quilts and the artwork. But they didn’t see Harold or the blonde.

Douglas stayed close and tried to take her hand to prevent her from wandering off. Again, she pulled away. What was with her today?

Whenever Lisa saw someone she knew, she’d stop and ask a few questions. Everyone was either in a hurry and couldn’t talk or didn’t know anything to tell her. Or maybe they were just avoiding her. Douglas hoped she didn’t catch on to that.

“It’s almost time,” Lisa said as she glanced at her watch. “Let’s get to our seats.”

The crowd had increased; the noise level rose higher. “Who plays tonight?” Douglas shouted.

“Faith Hill. Should be a sell-out.”

Lisa hadn’t realized how tired she was until she sat down and exhaustion set in. For a minute, she didn’t do anything except gather herself together. Silently. No way would she let Douglas know how shaky she felt.

But when the first horse and rider appeared in the Grand Entry, she had to admit it was worth the fatigue to be here. When the flag came into view, she was on her feet clapping, her exhaustion fluttering around the edges.

As the audience took their seats, she dug into her bag and brought out her binoculars. There—waving to the crowd as if his wife hadn’t lost her life here just days ago was Harold. Bastard.

Lisa adjusted the glasses, tried to find the blonde.

“There she is.” Lisa punched Douglas’ arm. Pointed. “See her?”

“I do.”

“I’m going down there.”

“She may be gone when we get there.”

“It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

“Are you up to it?”

“Jeez!” Lisa was on her feet, out in the aisle, storming out of the stands. Douglas was a good lawyer, but he wasn’t a very good investigator. Did he think they should make an appointment?

“Wait up,” he shouted.

Lisa never slowed. She wanted to get there before the woman disappeared again. What would she say to her? “Did you and Harold plan to kill Tempest together?” Or maybe, “Were you the one who cut my cinch?”

But why would the blonde be involved in the first place? If so, why would she do either of those evil deeds? Motive. They needed a motive. First step: find out who she was. She could just be Wheatley’s latest squeeze or simply a friend.

As if Lisa believed that.

By the time they made it to the corner of the arena where Lisa had spotted the blonde, she was out of breath. Her steps slowed to a walk as she waited for Douglas to catch up.

“If she’s still there, I want to talk to her.”

“Fine,” Douglas said. “Just stay where I can see you. You do realize someone tried to hurt you, maybe even kill you."

Lisa ignored him. The blonde stood in the same spot.

Just then, the crowed roared, stamped their feet and shouted as the last rider left the arena. The woman turned in their direction.

She had on a pair of tight designer jeans, a white Western shirt dotted with glitter, boots, and a hat set low on her head. Plus she wore a pair of wide dark glasses.

When Lisa went toward her, the woman turned and started off in the opposite direction.

“Just a minute,” Lisa called out. But the woman never slowed, just kept walking.

People jostled around them, but Lisa elbowed her way through. Still, the distance between the two women widened.

Then she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

“I swear to God, Lisa. You can’t run off like that. You have to be careful. What are you thinking?”

“Can’t hear you,” she said pointing to her ears and shaking her head. For a quick moment, the crowd thinned, allowing Lisa to spot the blonde, who turned and looked in their direction.
I know her. But I don’t know her.
Actually, Lisa didn’t know her at all, but that burst of recognition was real.

Lisa, with Douglas trailing behind her, followed a group out of the arena area and into the hall. But the blonde had disappeared.

“Where did she go?”

“Who knows?” Douglas answered. “Let’s see if we can find Wheatley.”

“He’ll never talk to us. If anything, he’ll try to have us thrown out.”

They made a slow circle, finally spotting Harold a good distance away. He was surrounded by a group of Stetson wearing, boot clad, serious-faced guys.

“Wonder what that’s about?” Douglas asked.

“I’m going over there,” Lisa said.

“No way. I want you to stay right here where I can see you.” Douglas looked at her, his green eyes sparking with resolve. “I mean it, Lisa. Don’t pull any of your stunts or this will be the last time I take you anywhere. I’ll keep you in the house if I have to tie you up to do it.”

That should be interesting. “I’m going with you.”

“You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”

But he took her hand and walked up to the group of men surrounding Wheatley.

“Stay at my back. We don’t want Wheatley coming after you. What we need now is information.”

Douglas fit right in with the group they were headed toward. Except Douglas was a real cowboy, or was before he turned lawyer. But he could still cowboy with the best of them. Better looking than anyone here to be sure in his boots, Stetson, and jeans. Plus, he was younger. If she was to guess, these guys had something to do with running the rodeo; either hands-on or with their wallets.

Her gaze swept the area, wishing the blonde would show up, wondering why she looked so familiar. The woman was tiny, probably not even a size two. With big boobs, blond hair and dressed to the nines, she would turn any man’s head. Certainly Harold’s. He never missed a pretty face, much less a curvaceous body.

The men stood in a corner of the hall, their faces somber. Whatever they were up to, it was serious business.

Douglas glanced back at Lisa. She was right behind him. He edged closer to the men.

“We want an end to this,” one of the men said.

“Now,” another echoed.

Wheatley shrugged. “What can I do? You should be talking to the cops.”

“There’s a different atmosphere around here. We don’t like it,” an older man said. “Things like this don’t happen in our rodeo.”

“No they don’t,” another put in. “Put a stop to it.”

Douglas smiled inwardly. Harold wasn’t happy. He didn’t like the way these guys were coming down on him in the least.

“I have a rodeo to tend to. If you want to talk about this, call a meeting,” Harold said and turned to leave.

The men looked after him. “We’ll do that,” one of them said to his retreating back.

Douglas fell into step beside Wheatley, made sure Lisa was still close. “Giving you a hard time, are they?”

“What’s it to you?” Wheatley grumbled.

“If you had a mind to, you could put a stop to a lot of what’s going on around here.”

Wheatley came to an abrupt stop and turned to Douglas. “You’re Lisa Kane’s attorney, aren’t you? I have nothing to say to you.”

“Just answer one question, Wheatley. Why do you want Lisa to look guilty? Who are you protecting?”

Harold glared.

“Who’s the blonde?” Douglas asked.

“Get the hell out of here,” Wheatley growled. “Or I’ll call the cops.”

“Calling the cops might not be a bad idea,” Douglas said, as he turned back to join Lisa.

Only Lisa wasn’t behind him anymore. Where the hell did she go?

His heart stumbled.

Hadn’t he given her strict orders to stay with him?

Surely, she didn’t deliberately do the opposite. But she’d been acting strange all day. After years of dating, he knew women didn’t like being told what to do. But Lisa was in danger. He should never have listened to her—never brought her here tonight. Now she’d disappeared. Turning in circles, he searched the immediate vicinity. Lisa was nowhere to be seen.

Douglas rubbed a hand over his eyes. What if the killer had seen her standing close by and had somehow managed to get her to leave with him?

Lisa was no one’s fool. She wouldn’t go with anyone she didn’t know.